I Want My Box of Joy!
by One-Hundred Percent Juice
Summary: All Alfred wanted was his box of joy. And McDonald's refused to give it to him. That was just so wrong, on so many levels. One-shot.


**A/N: ...I am so sorry. I haven't uploaded anything in a while...But don't lose hope! I do plan on updating "Watching You" soon, for those who are following it. Currently, I am not on my own computer. And, this was just something quick and stupid I wrote because the idea suddenly popped into my head. It isn't necessarily my usual writing style...Just roll with it, bros.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers or McDonald's. Credit goes to Hidekaz Himaruya and uh...McDonald's? respectively.**

* * *

><p>Alfred looked at his Happy Meal in confusion. It was just a…just a cheap white bag! Sure, it was kind of decorated, with easy mazes used to disguise advertisements aimed at small children, but it was definitely not what he wanted. He walked up to the cashier, a young lady, seemingly in her mid teens. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes to try to catch some extra attention. Unfortunately for her, her attempts at flirting went unnoticed, as Alfred had more important issues he had to address.<p>

"Hey, 'xcuse me, Miss, there is a big problem with my Happy Meal."

"Um…yes?" The girl tried to contain her giggles. It was rude to laugh at a customer, even if he did seem to be too old to even be buying a Happy Meal. But it was none of her business.

Alfred lifted up the Happy Meal bag to show it to the girl, a frown evident on his face. "What is this?" he asked, poking at it.

"That seems to be an average Happy Meal, sir….I see nothing wrong with it."

"No." Alfred shook his head. "No, no, no, no! Look at it! Just look at it!"

The cashier looked at the Happy Meal bag, still not able to see the problem. "Sir, I don't understand…"

"_This._ This is not what I wanted!" Alfred shook the bag in the girl's face, growing frustrated. "Where is my box of joy?"

The girl scratched her head in confusion. "What…?"

"_Joy is a gift. This is the box it comes in_!" Alfred quoted, one finger in the air. "Where is my box of joy?" The girl simply stared at him. Alfred frowned and shook the bag weakly again. "It's from the commercial!"

"Commercial…?"

"Yeah! Yanno, the one with Spaceman Stu!"

"…What?"

Okay, now Alfred was really getting annoyed. He banged his fist against the counter, causing the cashier girl to jump, and finally attracting the attention of other employees. "I want my box of joy, God dammit!" The girl, unsure of what to do, looked around in search of help from one of her co-workers, most of who just shrugged and rolled their eyes at her. She had no other choice than to pull out the big guns….call her manager.

"U-um, if you'll just let me get my manager…."

Alfred thought it over a second then nodded. As long as he got his box of joy…He could use a little joy. He watched the girl scramble away and frowned in remembrance of earlier that day. It had all been going awesome, while he simply chilled at home and played video games with his BFF Tony. But then, his day just had to be ruined by that grumpy England. His time kicking zombie ass had been interrupted by a phone call from the Brit. Soon enough, the two had begun fighting, Alfred ending the conversation by calling England "a boring old limey who had a stick shoved far up his _arse_."

Alfred shook his head as he watched the cashier girl return with a chubby man, presumably the restaurant's manager. England was just stupid. Yeah.

The man approached the counter, the girl hiding behind him. "Is there a problem here, sir?"

Alfred nodded. "You bet there is!" He pointed at the bag that contained his happy meal, his evidence. "This is not a box of joy!"

The manager raised an eyebrow at Alfred, who frowned. "What do you mean, sir?"

Alfred groaned and shook the bag restlessly. "The commercial, the commercial!"

"Hmmm….Oh! Well, I apologize, but not all restaurants offer the trademark Happy Meal boxes."

Alfred was shocked. No, he was horrified. Appalled, aghast! _Disgusted! _He couldn't believe his ears. "What do you mean?"

"Look, Sir, I just said, we don't have those little red Happy Meal boxes here. I don't know why. We just don't. I'm so-" The poor man was stopped when he suddenly found himself being held up high in the air, Alfred keeping a steady hold on the collar of his shirt.

"_I want my box of joy!"_

"P-police! Someone call the police!" In a blur, Alfred found himself outside of the restaurant, being put into handcuffs by a policeman who had conveniently witnessed the scene.

Alfred squirmed, struggling to escape the policeman's hold without hurting the man. "Dude! What are you doing? I just wanted my happy meal box, man! I did nothin' wrong!"

The officer shook his head and opened the door of his police car, motioning for Alfred to step inside. "You assaulted that man, boy. Disturbed the peace. Now get in."

Alfred shook his head and pouted. "I am so not getting in that car. I heard that it's not comfortable!"

"It's not meant for the comfort of criminals."

"I am _not_ a criminal!" The policeman sighed and grabbed Alfred by the shoulders, forcing him into the back of the car.

"I think differently, boy." He shut the door, ignoring Alfred's rants.

"You can't arrest me! I'm your country! The United States of fucking America! I'm the goddamn _hero_!"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>After managing to escape jail with some heavy help from Alfred's boss, Mr. Obama, Alfred returned to the same McDonald's with a plan. He was going to apologize, like a true hero did. He had just entered the eatery when he was swiftly pushed back out by the restaurant's manager, the same man from earlier that week.<p>

"You! Out, out, out of my restaurant!"

"Wha…? I'm sorry, man! I came here to-"

"I don't care! You're banned from this place! Don't even think about coming back, you hear?" The restaurant manager shut the door closed in Alfred's face, and put up a sign for all to see. It clearly stated "BANNED" in large, red bolded letters, with a picture of Alfred smiling and sending a thumbs up to whoever had taken the picture. Oh. It was the picture from his own driving license….

Alfred's eyes widened, finally realizing the situation he was in. "Wait!" He banged his fist on the door, trying to get someone's attention. "You can't ban me! I'm a valued customer! I get _coupons _from this place!" It was to no avail. He was ignored by the employees inside, and all the customers did was give him weird looks. One mother even covered her son's eyes. Alfred pouted and decided the best thing to do was to walk away.

Well. There was always Burger King…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ...I don't own Burger King either. Ciao for now, chickies.**


End file.
